and a fumble smh. it was a clean game too besides that, coach gonna be on his ass
By Valor and Arms.
By Valor and Arms.
Chapter Seven: Cleveland
James' frustration grew as he had once again gotten lost and had to start reading the page all over again for the third time. As the season was getting underway, so was the school year with his academic workload increasing by the minute although football wasn't what was breaking his concentration. It was the pretty redbone sitting across from him with the dark brown hair that was clouding his mind.
Since their spat, they hadn't spoken much to each other outside of the necessary pleasantries and were currently going through the motions of what their relationship normally looked like. She had apologized through a text message the next day before James picked her up for their usual walk to school but James' ego was still bruised, as any seventeen-year old boy's would be. It was bad enough that he had experienced such blunder in the bedroom with her, the last thing he needed to be was reminded of it.
"I found some of them on Quizlet," she reached across to tap James' hand in order to get his attention, "I said I found some of them on Quizlet."
"I heard you," James was quick to respond, trying to finish up this page once and for all.
Anabelle certainly detected his tone, closing her laptop lid as she stared straight at him, "How long are we going to be like this for?"
"Like what?"
"Don't play dumb," she pulled the book away from him, "I already said I'm sorry, what more do you want me to say?"
"I'm just trying to study over here," James sighed as he looked up at Anabelle.
"I was just being a bitch," she apologized once more, "Don't read too much into it, okay? I just said that, I didn't mean anything by it. You know it's fine with me, we can wait until you feel like you're ready."
This wasn't helping his ego.
"Thanks," James nodded, half-annoyed, "Can we get back to this now? I'd prefer not to spend the rest of the night studying."
"You used to love the library," she didn't take the hint, "I recall someone being very excited to be behind those books right there."
Her attempt at humor worked as James cracked a smile, reminiscing back to when he first felt a woman's bosom.
It was the August heading into his junior year when the football team, as always, had been enlisted to help teachers prep the classroom as a way to curry favor heading into the academic year. James and a few others had been tasked to clean up the library as Anabelle was helping Mrs. Sanders prep the music room that was on the opposite side of campus.
Somehow, she had found herself in the library and in front of all of his teammates, guided him away from the pack into a more secluded area. He was simultaneously embarrassed and filled with pride as they began to whistle towards the couple, knowing all too well what was happening. Anabelle was a bit of an exhibitionist that way while others might call her a tease. James had heard stories about her growing up but it never dissuade him in his eventual pursuit of her.
"You want to eat at my house tonight? My cousin is making that fried steak you always ranting about," she suggested, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think this entire relationship is just a way for you to eat her cooking some more."
"Red handed," James jokingly put his hands up, "If she didn't have a face that only a mother could love, you'd be in real trouble."
"That's fucked up," Anabelle laughed in agreement, "She used to be so pretty when we were kids, it's them drugs man."
"Cocaine is a helluva drug," James did his best impression of Dave Chappelle doing his Rick James impression.
"More like meth," Anabelle shook her head in disgust.
"I need to head home anyway," James answered her initial question, "I'm lucky the old man ain't blowing up my phone already, don't need to push my luck."
...
"It's a 25-yard pickup on the completion from Little to the talented junior and the Trojans offense is rolling!"
...
"Weisbecker is uncovered in the endzone for the touchdown and its the Trojans that score first with the strike from James Earl Little Jr!"
...
"With that completion to Geo Sarria, James Earl Little has just tied the school record for most consecutive completions with his eleventh straight completion, what a performance tonight."
...
"Little escapes from the pocket to his right, looks left, he's got the junior once more and that keeps the streak alive and gives him the record!"
...
"Right on the money and Craig Ostrander gets the second touchdown of the night, both from Little who has yet to throw an incompletion!"
...
"Howell doesn't dive for that ball and the streak comes to an end folks, at fifteen straight completions. The folks in the athletic department are going to be busy tonight because that just might be the league record after all."
...
"Ostrander gets behind the defense and it's a perfect pass to lead him into the endzone!"
...
"Nguyen gets in on the fun with his first catch of the night and it's a touchdown! East Side is running away with this one!"
"Wouldn't be any other way," Arthur boasted with pride, "How's Mike doing?"
"I don't think he's touched the ball since he scored," Garrett refreshed the page, "Mostly been Geo it seems like."
Garrett was a Cleveland High graduate and practically taught Michael how to play football given that he was an all-district selection at receiver for the Wildcats. Arthur also went to Cleveland High but when he saw the slew of kids that coach James Earl Little Sr. was putting through to the next level, he jumped at the opportunity as Michael had also been teammates with James Jr. since they first started playing. Even in the Deep South, segregation only ran so deep once it crossed the white lines.
"424, check in, please."
"424 here, go ahead," Arthur responded to the radio while Garrett continued to peruse through MaxPreps' website for the latest scores around the district.
"We got a reported 10-44 J2 at 900 S Davis Ave, Super 6."
"Fuck me," Garrett muttered to himself as he put his phone away and put the car into drive.
"We're responding," Arthur replied back, "We'll be there in a minute."
"I need fucking hazard pay for this shit," Garrett complained as they pulled up to the grimy hotel, "It's every fucking week with this shit."
"What we need is a hazmat suit," Arthur got out of their patrol car and examined the scene as they walked up.
Before Garrett could follow suit, a shot rang out which sent both officers to their knees as they crouched near the car. The lack of commotion around them made Arthur second guess if it was really a gun shot he had heard but it was soon followed by the sound of another one, which was unmistakable.
Garrett, the closest one to the radio, reached inside the car, "424 here, we have shots fired at Super 6, I repeat, we have shots fired at 900 S Davis Ave, Super 6 Inn. Requesting back up here, over."
They didn't wait for dispatch to respond as they began their trek towards the two-story building where some lights could be seen from the parking lot flickering on. Both of their ears were perked up as they tried to make sense of what was going on, weapons drawn.
"I think it was from behind the building," Garrett suggested while Arthur was still unsure, "It definitely was from the outside."
"Yeah," Arthur began to pick up his pace, walking past the staircase that separated the two sides of the building. He took a quick peak upstairs before turning the corner, taking the east side while Garrett continued west.
As Arthur continued his approach, one of the doors swung open.
"Police! Stay right there!" he shouted.
James' frustration grew as he had once again gotten lost and had to start reading the page all over again for the third time. As the season was getting underway, so was the school year with his academic workload increasing by the minute although football wasn't what was breaking his concentration. It was the pretty redbone sitting across from him with the dark brown hair that was clouding his mind.
Since their spat, they hadn't spoken much to each other outside of the necessary pleasantries and were currently going through the motions of what their relationship normally looked like. She had apologized through a text message the next day before James picked her up for their usual walk to school but James' ego was still bruised, as any seventeen-year old boy's would be. It was bad enough that he had experienced such blunder in the bedroom with her, the last thing he needed to be was reminded of it.
"I found some of them on Quizlet," she reached across to tap James' hand in order to get his attention, "I said I found some of them on Quizlet."
"I heard you," James was quick to respond, trying to finish up this page once and for all.
Anabelle certainly detected his tone, closing her laptop lid as she stared straight at him, "How long are we going to be like this for?"
"Like what?"
"Don't play dumb," she pulled the book away from him, "I already said I'm sorry, what more do you want me to say?"
"I'm just trying to study over here," James sighed as he looked up at Anabelle.
"I was just being a bitch," she apologized once more, "Don't read too much into it, okay? I just said that, I didn't mean anything by it. You know it's fine with me, we can wait until you feel like you're ready."
This wasn't helping his ego.
"Thanks," James nodded, half-annoyed, "Can we get back to this now? I'd prefer not to spend the rest of the night studying."
"You used to love the library," she didn't take the hint, "I recall someone being very excited to be behind those books right there."
Her attempt at humor worked as James cracked a smile, reminiscing back to when he first felt a woman's bosom.
It was the August heading into his junior year when the football team, as always, had been enlisted to help teachers prep the classroom as a way to curry favor heading into the academic year. James and a few others had been tasked to clean up the library as Anabelle was helping Mrs. Sanders prep the music room that was on the opposite side of campus.
Somehow, she had found herself in the library and in front of all of his teammates, guided him away from the pack into a more secluded area. He was simultaneously embarrassed and filled with pride as they began to whistle towards the couple, knowing all too well what was happening. Anabelle was a bit of an exhibitionist that way while others might call her a tease. James had heard stories about her growing up but it never dissuade him in his eventual pursuit of her.
"You want to eat at my house tonight? My cousin is making that fried steak you always ranting about," she suggested, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think this entire relationship is just a way for you to eat her cooking some more."
"Red handed," James jokingly put his hands up, "If she didn't have a face that only a mother could love, you'd be in real trouble."
"That's fucked up," Anabelle laughed in agreement, "She used to be so pretty when we were kids, it's them drugs man."
"Cocaine is a helluva drug," James did his best impression of Dave Chappelle doing his Rick James impression.
"More like meth," Anabelle shook her head in disgust.
"I need to head home anyway," James answered her initial question, "I'm lucky the old man ain't blowing up my phone already, don't need to push my luck."
...
"It's a 25-yard pickup on the completion from Little to the talented junior and the Trojans offense is rolling!"
...
"Weisbecker is uncovered in the endzone for the touchdown and its the Trojans that score first with the strike from James Earl Little Jr!"
...
"With that completion to Geo Sarria, James Earl Little has just tied the school record for most consecutive completions with his eleventh straight completion, what a performance tonight."
...
"Little escapes from the pocket to his right, looks left, he's got the junior once more and that keeps the streak alive and gives him the record!"
...
"Right on the money and Craig Ostrander gets the second touchdown of the night, both from Little who has yet to throw an incompletion!"
...
"Howell doesn't dive for that ball and the streak comes to an end folks, at fifteen straight completions. The folks in the athletic department are going to be busy tonight because that just might be the league record after all."
...
"Ostrander gets behind the defense and it's a perfect pass to lead him into the endzone!"
...
"Nguyen gets in on the fun with his first catch of the night and it's a touchdown! East Side is running away with this one!"
...
...
"Them boys putting a hurting on Cleveland," Garrett shook his head as he looked up from his phone, keeping his long time partner up to date on the game as they finished up their shift. ...
"Wouldn't be any other way," Arthur boasted with pride, "How's Mike doing?"
"I don't think he's touched the ball since he scored," Garrett refreshed the page, "Mostly been Geo it seems like."
Garrett was a Cleveland High graduate and practically taught Michael how to play football given that he was an all-district selection at receiver for the Wildcats. Arthur also went to Cleveland High but when he saw the slew of kids that coach James Earl Little Sr. was putting through to the next level, he jumped at the opportunity as Michael had also been teammates with James Jr. since they first started playing. Even in the Deep South, segregation only ran so deep once it crossed the white lines.
"424, check in, please."
"424 here, go ahead," Arthur responded to the radio while Garrett continued to peruse through MaxPreps' website for the latest scores around the district.
"We got a reported 10-44 J2 at 900 S Davis Ave, Super 6."
"Fuck me," Garrett muttered to himself as he put his phone away and put the car into drive.
"We're responding," Arthur replied back, "We'll be there in a minute."
"I need fucking hazard pay for this shit," Garrett complained as they pulled up to the grimy hotel, "It's every fucking week with this shit."
"What we need is a hazmat suit," Arthur got out of their patrol car and examined the scene as they walked up.
Before Garrett could follow suit, a shot rang out which sent both officers to their knees as they crouched near the car. The lack of commotion around them made Arthur second guess if it was really a gun shot he had heard but it was soon followed by the sound of another one, which was unmistakable.
Garrett, the closest one to the radio, reached inside the car, "424 here, we have shots fired at Super 6, I repeat, we have shots fired at 900 S Davis Ave, Super 6 Inn. Requesting back up here, over."
They didn't wait for dispatch to respond as they began their trek towards the two-story building where some lights could be seen from the parking lot flickering on. Both of their ears were perked up as they tried to make sense of what was going on, weapons drawn.
"I think it was from behind the building," Garrett suggested while Arthur was still unsure, "It definitely was from the outside."
"Yeah," Arthur began to pick up his pace, walking past the staircase that separated the two sides of the building. He took a quick peak upstairs before turning the corner, taking the east side while Garrett continued west.
As Arthur continued his approach, one of the doors swung open.
"Police! Stay right there!" he shouted.
-
Captain Canada
- Posts: 2197
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
By Valor and Arms.
Just caught up with this. Very interesting premise and characters you're building here. Definitely following along
By Valor and Arms.
thanks brodie, cooking up another update as we speak during halftime of this gameCaptain Canada wrote: ↑01 Dec 2022, 21:27Just caught up with this. Very interesting premise and characters you're building here. Definitely following along
By Valor and Arms.
Chapter Eight: To Fight is To Mourn
With an increased focus on his footwork, James did his best to drive the ball down the field after firmly planting his right leg on the turf, violently turning his hips as the ball cut threw the morning air.
It was a really good rep, perhaps the best of the session as it drew a head nod from the onlookers. The impromptu throwing session behind the bleachers of the community field had started to gather a bit of a crowd as it caught the attention of the parents that had came to watch their little ones compete. Instead, their eyes became focus on James who had started to work up a bit of a sweat as the sun started to introduce itself in all of its mighty form.
"Just like that," commended Earnest who continued to watch James throw the ball from a few yards away, eyeing his every moment and mannerism.
A recruiting coordinator for Southern Miss, this sort of contact wasn't technically allowed by the NCAA bylaws but Earnest and James' father went back a long way, having played together in Hattiesburg and then coaching on opposing sidelines on Friday nights over the years.
In a lot of ways, Earnest Taylor was a mirror into the future that James Sr. could have had if he chosen to play the coaching game, jumping from job to job to go up the coaching ladder. Instead, James Sr. found peace at East Side while Earnest's mercenary ways landed him a cushy gig with his alma matter, charged with finding the best talent in the northern half of the state.
"I don't see why he can't compete," James overheard Earnest mutter to his father as he took a breather between throws, "Steve obviously brought his guy in and we also got this big kid from Georgia, Kyle, but from a throwing standpoint and actually quarterbacking this shit? Man, Jay is miles ahead, it ain't even close. Steve really likes him too, you know I wouldn't be here if he didn't."
Steve was Steve Buckley, Southern Miss' new offensive coordinator after nearly the entire operation packed up and followed Larry Fedora to Chapel Hill with Coach Taylor being one of the few holdovers, which naturally came with a raise. The 'guy' that Earnest casually mentioned was Anthony Alford, Buckley's quarterback at Petal High School. Widely regarded as the best player in Mississippi during the last recruiting cycle, it was often rumored that Alford was a package deal with Buckley who was hired three days before Alford's surprising commitment at the Army All American game.
"I'll be honest with you," Earnest leaned in some more, "The Alford kid ain't nothing special."
James Sr. kept his thoughts to himself, simply nodding to every one of Earnest's comments as he had learned the sugar coated language of recruiters over the years. After the offer from UAB, South Alabama quickly followed and Southern Miss was the latest to jump in on the trend just a few days later. So much of college football recruiting was built on perception and for a brand new staff to miss out on an in-state kid whose dad went to the school, it would be a bad look for the recruiting department so Earnest was doing his part.
"Go on and ice that shoulder," James Sr. instructed his son whose arm was still recovering from the previous night's win over Cleveland.
James obliged, thanking the pair of kids that had served as his receivers for the past hour before walking over to the concession's stand to get a bag of ice while his father and Earnest continued to catch up. He was surprised to spot a familiar face behind the counter with their head buried in their phone.
"Hey," James said, drawing a blank on her name, "Can I get some ice please?"
"I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose," she smiled as she looked up and instantly recognized him.
The joke didn't really land as James simply forced a smile.
"You want me to wrap it for you?" she eagerly suggested.
"It's fine," James insisted, "Besides, you're off the clock. Not that you're on the clock when you're helping us out but you know what I mean."
"This is actually my on the clock time," her jokes continued to fall flat, "I saw this super cute dress at Marshall's that I'm dying to wear to the Freshmen Dance and I'm just now realizing that I'm talking way too much."
"You're good," James continued to be polite as he could relate to being a bit socially awkward.
"Your ice," she pointed at him, reminding herself of what he was actually there for.
She looked around for a moment for a container to dump the ice into before deciding to hand over the entire bag of ice.
"I forgot my wallet over there but how much do I owe you? I'll be right back with it."
"The forgot my wallet trick? That's a bit lame," she teased, "It's fine, on the house."
"You sure?"
"It's just ice, right. It literally grows on trees," she continued, "Well not on trees but you know what I mean."
"I do," he laughed, "Thanks."
"It's Jasmine by the way," she mentioned to him before they parted ways, "I could see you were struggling."
...
"It's just so fucked up."
"I can't even imagine that shit happening, bro."
"What was he even doing there?"
The room stopped and all looked at Dexter with a mixture of anger and surprise as he had said the quiet part out loud.
"Does it even matter?" Joshua broke through the silence, "He's fucking dead now."
"For real," another member of the group echoed Joshua's sentiment.
"This is an open space," Craig butted in, "Let's not step on each other, everything you're feeling right now is valid."
"Come on," Dexter persisted, "We all know what goes down over there, I told him to stop doing that shit."
"How another man makes his living ain't your fucking concern," Joshua continued to go at Dexter.
"It is when that shit gives a bad look to all of us," Dexter stood his ground until Joshua stood up and all 235 pounds of him came with him to stand over the diminutive Dexter who was sitting down.
"We're not going to do that," Craig sternly warned Joshua, "We've already spoken about this, Mr. Little."
Joshua continued to breath heavily but took a seat and chose to shoot daggers with his eyes instead directed straight at Dexter who he often butted heads with. They were both strong personalities in a room full of introverts that were demure by nature.
"While I'm not here to judge anyone and this is certainly not the right time for this but I feel it is my responsibility to let all of you know that that is not a healthy way to make a living. We all loved Jacoby," Craig held back his tears, "He was one of the people who I started this group for and I know that you guys meant a lot to him and you have no idea how much your support and love goes a long way to making life just a bit easier for all of us in this room."
Craig paused for a moment to collect himself but once a member came over to console him, he completely broke down crying. He was soon surrounded by the room, sans Joshua who watched from a distance with disgust.
With an increased focus on his footwork, James did his best to drive the ball down the field after firmly planting his right leg on the turf, violently turning his hips as the ball cut threw the morning air.
It was a really good rep, perhaps the best of the session as it drew a head nod from the onlookers. The impromptu throwing session behind the bleachers of the community field had started to gather a bit of a crowd as it caught the attention of the parents that had came to watch their little ones compete. Instead, their eyes became focus on James who had started to work up a bit of a sweat as the sun started to introduce itself in all of its mighty form.
"Just like that," commended Earnest who continued to watch James throw the ball from a few yards away, eyeing his every moment and mannerism.
A recruiting coordinator for Southern Miss, this sort of contact wasn't technically allowed by the NCAA bylaws but Earnest and James' father went back a long way, having played together in Hattiesburg and then coaching on opposing sidelines on Friday nights over the years.
In a lot of ways, Earnest Taylor was a mirror into the future that James Sr. could have had if he chosen to play the coaching game, jumping from job to job to go up the coaching ladder. Instead, James Sr. found peace at East Side while Earnest's mercenary ways landed him a cushy gig with his alma matter, charged with finding the best talent in the northern half of the state.
"I don't see why he can't compete," James overheard Earnest mutter to his father as he took a breather between throws, "Steve obviously brought his guy in and we also got this big kid from Georgia, Kyle, but from a throwing standpoint and actually quarterbacking this shit? Man, Jay is miles ahead, it ain't even close. Steve really likes him too, you know I wouldn't be here if he didn't."
Steve was Steve Buckley, Southern Miss' new offensive coordinator after nearly the entire operation packed up and followed Larry Fedora to Chapel Hill with Coach Taylor being one of the few holdovers, which naturally came with a raise. The 'guy' that Earnest casually mentioned was Anthony Alford, Buckley's quarterback at Petal High School. Widely regarded as the best player in Mississippi during the last recruiting cycle, it was often rumored that Alford was a package deal with Buckley who was hired three days before Alford's surprising commitment at the Army All American game.
"I'll be honest with you," Earnest leaned in some more, "The Alford kid ain't nothing special."
James Sr. kept his thoughts to himself, simply nodding to every one of Earnest's comments as he had learned the sugar coated language of recruiters over the years. After the offer from UAB, South Alabama quickly followed and Southern Miss was the latest to jump in on the trend just a few days later. So much of college football recruiting was built on perception and for a brand new staff to miss out on an in-state kid whose dad went to the school, it would be a bad look for the recruiting department so Earnest was doing his part.
"Go on and ice that shoulder," James Sr. instructed his son whose arm was still recovering from the previous night's win over Cleveland.
James obliged, thanking the pair of kids that had served as his receivers for the past hour before walking over to the concession's stand to get a bag of ice while his father and Earnest continued to catch up. He was surprised to spot a familiar face behind the counter with their head buried in their phone.
"Hey," James said, drawing a blank on her name, "Can I get some ice please?"
"I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose," she smiled as she looked up and instantly recognized him.
The joke didn't really land as James simply forced a smile.
"You want me to wrap it for you?" she eagerly suggested.
"It's fine," James insisted, "Besides, you're off the clock. Not that you're on the clock when you're helping us out but you know what I mean."
"This is actually my on the clock time," her jokes continued to fall flat, "I saw this super cute dress at Marshall's that I'm dying to wear to the Freshmen Dance and I'm just now realizing that I'm talking way too much."
"You're good," James continued to be polite as he could relate to being a bit socially awkward.
"Your ice," she pointed at him, reminding herself of what he was actually there for.
She looked around for a moment for a container to dump the ice into before deciding to hand over the entire bag of ice.
"I forgot my wallet over there but how much do I owe you? I'll be right back with it."
"The forgot my wallet trick? That's a bit lame," she teased, "It's fine, on the house."
"You sure?"
"It's just ice, right. It literally grows on trees," she continued, "Well not on trees but you know what I mean."
"I do," he laughed, "Thanks."
"It's Jasmine by the way," she mentioned to him before they parted ways, "I could see you were struggling."
...
"It's just so fucked up."
"I can't even imagine that shit happening, bro."
"What was he even doing there?"
The room stopped and all looked at Dexter with a mixture of anger and surprise as he had said the quiet part out loud.
"Does it even matter?" Joshua broke through the silence, "He's fucking dead now."
"For real," another member of the group echoed Joshua's sentiment.
"This is an open space," Craig butted in, "Let's not step on each other, everything you're feeling right now is valid."
"Come on," Dexter persisted, "We all know what goes down over there, I told him to stop doing that shit."
"How another man makes his living ain't your fucking concern," Joshua continued to go at Dexter.
"It is when that shit gives a bad look to all of us," Dexter stood his ground until Joshua stood up and all 235 pounds of him came with him to stand over the diminutive Dexter who was sitting down.
"We're not going to do that," Craig sternly warned Joshua, "We've already spoken about this, Mr. Little."
Joshua continued to breath heavily but took a seat and chose to shoot daggers with his eyes instead directed straight at Dexter who he often butted heads with. They were both strong personalities in a room full of introverts that were demure by nature.
"While I'm not here to judge anyone and this is certainly not the right time for this but I feel it is my responsibility to let all of you know that that is not a healthy way to make a living. We all loved Jacoby," Craig held back his tears, "He was one of the people who I started this group for and I know that you guys meant a lot to him and you have no idea how much your support and love goes a long way to making life just a bit easier for all of us in this room."
Craig paused for a moment to collect himself but once a member came over to console him, he completely broke down crying. He was soon surrounded by the room, sans Joshua who watched from a distance with disgust.
Last edited by Soapy on 25 Sep 2023, 10:16, edited 1 time in total.
-
Captain Canada
- Posts: 2197
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
By Valor and Arms.
very interesting end to that last update. love me a builder update
By Valor and Arms.
we're building, brick by brickCaptain Canada wrote: ↑02 Dec 2022, 11:29very interesting end to that last update. love me a builder update
By Valor and Arms.
Chapter Nine: Circling The Wagon
James Sr. kept a watchful eye on his tight end throughout warmups as the stands started to fill and the anticipation began to swell. A quiet guy in general, Michael's disposition made it hard for the veteran head coach to get a good read on his star player. He debated going over there and checking on him but figured that would likely do more harm than good.
Some things were better left unaddressed.
...
James patiently waited for Craig to cross his face before hitting him in stride as he turned up field. He watched with admiration as the little-engine-that-could broke through a pair of tackles to pick up a big gain and get the offense going after their slow start.
Greenwood had kept the running game in check and the typically reliable Michael had already dropped two passes. He was additionally getting manhandled by Greenwood's physical front seven which delivered blow after blow as he tried to get into his route. Not one to usually complain, Michael had been reduced to looking towards the officials with his hands up in the air, asking for a flag that never came.
...
"Little Jr. in the gun, flanked by two running backs and he's going to get the snap. Greenwood starting to get pressure and Little releases it....touchdown! He finds a streaking Geo Sarria right in the teeth of the defense on third and long to tie the game!"
...
There was a collective sigh of relief from the offense as they jogged off the field. The strength of Coach Harrison's offense was also showing to be a potential weakness as its simplicity allowed for players to develop an acute sense of chemistry on every single play but it also left their playbook shallow with not a lot of answers to the test. Greenwood had seemingly cracked the code, playing a physical brand of football that made the Trojans offense less at ease.
...
Joshua could feel the group getting tense as they huddled near the parking lot with the conversation getting minimal with every cheer they would overhear from the nearby stadium. They served as a reminder as to why they were there and what they were about to do. They wouldn't be getting those same cheers after their performance, of that they were certain, even Joshua whose idea it was.
"They're going to remember this shit for a long time," Joshua tried to summon the energy he saw his father have before a big game when addressing his team, "A lot of people get a chance to be on the right side of history and end up on the wrong side."
"That's right," Xavier agreed, putting their personal dispute aside.
"They're going to feel us," Joshua looked down at the index card he had been studying all week, "They're going to fucking feel us tonight."
...
"It's Craig Ostrander once more on that fifteen yard pickup and he's going to have to be the guy for the Trojans and Little as Greenwood has completely taken out all-district tight end Michael Weisbecker."
...
"Does he have it? It's hard to tell from here but the Trojans are celebrating like he does and yes, touchdown! The officials signal it in, it's a touchdown for Ostrander whose having a breakout game tonight."
...
"Weisbecker bowls his way past the line to gain and that's a first down on his first catch."
"He's really the dynamic playmaker for this, even beyond Sarria and Ostrander whose made some big plays but like you see on that play, if anyone is going to change the tenor of this game positively for the Trojans, it's their tight end."
...
James clapped it up for Michael as he walked back to the huddle, slapping his tight end on the helmet. He had watched enough football over the years to get a feel for games and he knew this one was destined to go down to the wire and he'd need his big target in crunch time.
...
"Let's get him going," James Sr. instructed his offensive coordinator as he walked past him on the sidelines, jotting down his notes.
...
"Third and six, a big chance to extend the lead."
...
As the defensive dropped into a zone which instantly took away Craig's crossing route which had worked earlier, James knew he'd have to extend the play in order to give Geo enough time to run his deep over route. Geo surprisingly got open quicker than James anticipated but he wasn't set to throw, causing him to roll out to his right in an effort to evade the oncoming rush.
By doing so, it allowed for the deep safety to rotate over to Geo, taking away the wide open touchdown that was once there. In his desperate scramble to the sidelines, James spotted Michael who had broken off on his flat route and gone up the sideline to the area that the deep safety had just vacated. Faced with the same problem as before, James had no choice this time but to let it rip despite his feet not being set.
...
"It's intercepted! James Earl Little Jr. is going to want this one back because he had Weisbecker wide open in the end zone but just couldn't get it there, threw it right to him."
...
"Fuck!" Michael slammed his helmet as he got to the sidelines, an outburst that surprised everyone.
"My bad on that throw," James said sheepishly, perhaps the most surprised of all to see Michael so agitated, "Didn't get a good grip on it."
"We'll get it back," Geo encouraged the offense as they took a seat with Michael still visibly upset, nearly to the point of tears.
James Sr. was watching this all unfold which prompted him to pull Snoop to the side, who doubled as the tight end's coach.
"Let's limit his reps," James Sr. confided to his longtime assistant, the only other person on the staff who was armed with the information that was causing Michael to be so emotional.
...
As James surveyed the defense on perhaps the biggest play of the night, he prayed to all of the gods that the middle of the field would part open like the Red Sea which Greenwood had denied him all night. As soon as the ball snapped, Greenwood dropped into their zone coverage and sat, daring the noodle-armed quarterback to beat them deep.
James quickly adverted his eyes to the hashes, hoping that doing so would free up Geo who was the only one running a crossing route while all of the other receivers ran verticals that were sole meant to manipulate the defense. The concept worked as the lone middle field defender abandoned his initial depth and took a step back, giving James a crease to get the ball to Geo for the first down.
"Fuck it," James thought to himself as he heaved it deep, never bothering to look back at the now wide open Geo.
...
"What a throw! What a catch! Touchdown East Side! They're going to survive this scare after an amazing third down throw to Thien Nguyen from James Earl Little Jr. with two minutes left in the game to put them up two scores!"
"Never should have been," James hung his head, unhappy with his performance.
"It was a tough throw," he soothed his son, "On the run, defender at your heels."
"I'm more tight about missing the deep over," James added, "We've been setting it up all season long."
"It'll be there," he kissed James on the top of the head.
"Carl's going to adjust," James Sr. assured him, "That's what good coaches do and he's a damn good one."
Just as James' mood was starting to turn, he was greeted by the startling sight of the players ahead of him being blocked from entering the bus by a group of apparent students that had surrounded the bus. His first thought, along with his father's, was that Greenwood -- who hadn't beaten East Side since 2002 -- had decided to deliver a case of the beats in other ways.
James Sr. hurried to the front, both his parental and coaching instincts taking over.
"It ain't going to be none of that night," he pushed his own players out of the way to reach the bus, "If any of y'all want to dance, you can dance with the Big Bear tonight. You can go home and tell ya daddy and ya momma too, they'd be mighty proud of you."
"We will not be silenced!" they yelled in unison.
"I am Jacoby Smalls!" yelled one of the members, stepping out of the circle before setting back in formation.
A crowd began to form.
"We will not be afraid!"
"I am Jacoby Smalls!" yelled another member in a similar fashion.
"We will not be feared!"
"I am Jacoby Smalls!" another one stepped forward.
"We will not be beaten on!"
"I am Jacoby Smalls!" Joshua shouted to the heavens, making eye contact with his father and holding it.
"We will not be shot dead in the streets!"
James Sr. kept a watchful eye on his tight end throughout warmups as the stands started to fill and the anticipation began to swell. A quiet guy in general, Michael's disposition made it hard for the veteran head coach to get a good read on his star player. He debated going over there and checking on him but figured that would likely do more harm than good.
Some things were better left unaddressed.
...
James patiently waited for Craig to cross his face before hitting him in stride as he turned up field. He watched with admiration as the little-engine-that-could broke through a pair of tackles to pick up a big gain and get the offense going after their slow start.
Greenwood had kept the running game in check and the typically reliable Michael had already dropped two passes. He was additionally getting manhandled by Greenwood's physical front seven which delivered blow after blow as he tried to get into his route. Not one to usually complain, Michael had been reduced to looking towards the officials with his hands up in the air, asking for a flag that never came.
...
"Little Jr. in the gun, flanked by two running backs and he's going to get the snap. Greenwood starting to get pressure and Little releases it....touchdown! He finds a streaking Geo Sarria right in the teeth of the defense on third and long to tie the game!"
...
There was a collective sigh of relief from the offense as they jogged off the field. The strength of Coach Harrison's offense was also showing to be a potential weakness as its simplicity allowed for players to develop an acute sense of chemistry on every single play but it also left their playbook shallow with not a lot of answers to the test. Greenwood had seemingly cracked the code, playing a physical brand of football that made the Trojans offense less at ease.
...
Joshua could feel the group getting tense as they huddled near the parking lot with the conversation getting minimal with every cheer they would overhear from the nearby stadium. They served as a reminder as to why they were there and what they were about to do. They wouldn't be getting those same cheers after their performance, of that they were certain, even Joshua whose idea it was.
"They're going to remember this shit for a long time," Joshua tried to summon the energy he saw his father have before a big game when addressing his team, "A lot of people get a chance to be on the right side of history and end up on the wrong side."
"That's right," Xavier agreed, putting their personal dispute aside.
"They're going to feel us," Joshua looked down at the index card he had been studying all week, "They're going to fucking feel us tonight."
...
"It's Craig Ostrander once more on that fifteen yard pickup and he's going to have to be the guy for the Trojans and Little as Greenwood has completely taken out all-district tight end Michael Weisbecker."
...
"Does he have it? It's hard to tell from here but the Trojans are celebrating like he does and yes, touchdown! The officials signal it in, it's a touchdown for Ostrander whose having a breakout game tonight."
...
"Weisbecker bowls his way past the line to gain and that's a first down on his first catch."
"He's really the dynamic playmaker for this, even beyond Sarria and Ostrander whose made some big plays but like you see on that play, if anyone is going to change the tenor of this game positively for the Trojans, it's their tight end."
...
James clapped it up for Michael as he walked back to the huddle, slapping his tight end on the helmet. He had watched enough football over the years to get a feel for games and he knew this one was destined to go down to the wire and he'd need his big target in crunch time.
...
"Let's get him going," James Sr. instructed his offensive coordinator as he walked past him on the sidelines, jotting down his notes.
...
"Third and six, a big chance to extend the lead."
...
As the defensive dropped into a zone which instantly took away Craig's crossing route which had worked earlier, James knew he'd have to extend the play in order to give Geo enough time to run his deep over route. Geo surprisingly got open quicker than James anticipated but he wasn't set to throw, causing him to roll out to his right in an effort to evade the oncoming rush.
By doing so, it allowed for the deep safety to rotate over to Geo, taking away the wide open touchdown that was once there. In his desperate scramble to the sidelines, James spotted Michael who had broken off on his flat route and gone up the sideline to the area that the deep safety had just vacated. Faced with the same problem as before, James had no choice this time but to let it rip despite his feet not being set.
...
"It's intercepted! James Earl Little Jr. is going to want this one back because he had Weisbecker wide open in the end zone but just couldn't get it there, threw it right to him."
...
"Fuck!" Michael slammed his helmet as he got to the sidelines, an outburst that surprised everyone.
"My bad on that throw," James said sheepishly, perhaps the most surprised of all to see Michael so agitated, "Didn't get a good grip on it."
"We'll get it back," Geo encouraged the offense as they took a seat with Michael still visibly upset, nearly to the point of tears.
James Sr. was watching this all unfold which prompted him to pull Snoop to the side, who doubled as the tight end's coach.
"Let's limit his reps," James Sr. confided to his longtime assistant, the only other person on the staff who was armed with the information that was causing Michael to be so emotional.
...
As James surveyed the defense on perhaps the biggest play of the night, he prayed to all of the gods that the middle of the field would part open like the Red Sea which Greenwood had denied him all night. As soon as the ball snapped, Greenwood dropped into their zone coverage and sat, daring the noodle-armed quarterback to beat them deep.
James quickly adverted his eyes to the hashes, hoping that doing so would free up Geo who was the only one running a crossing route while all of the other receivers ran verticals that were sole meant to manipulate the defense. The concept worked as the lone middle field defender abandoned his initial depth and took a step back, giving James a crease to get the ball to Geo for the first down.
"Fuck it," James thought to himself as he heaved it deep, never bothering to look back at the now wide open Geo.
...
"What a throw! What a catch! Touchdown East Side! They're going to survive this scare after an amazing third down throw to Thien Nguyen from James Earl Little Jr. with two minutes left in the game to put them up two scores!"
...
...
"The skin of our fucking teeth," James Sr. grabbed his son with one arm and hugged him tight....
"Never should have been," James hung his head, unhappy with his performance.
"It was a tough throw," he soothed his son, "On the run, defender at your heels."
"I'm more tight about missing the deep over," James added, "We've been setting it up all season long."
"It'll be there," he kissed James on the top of the head.
"Carl's going to adjust," James Sr. assured him, "That's what good coaches do and he's a damn good one."
Just as James' mood was starting to turn, he was greeted by the startling sight of the players ahead of him being blocked from entering the bus by a group of apparent students that had surrounded the bus. His first thought, along with his father's, was that Greenwood -- who hadn't beaten East Side since 2002 -- had decided to deliver a case of the beats in other ways.
James Sr. hurried to the front, both his parental and coaching instincts taking over.
"It ain't going to be none of that night," he pushed his own players out of the way to reach the bus, "If any of y'all want to dance, you can dance with the Big Bear tonight. You can go home and tell ya daddy and ya momma too, they'd be mighty proud of you."
"We will not be silenced!" they yelled in unison.
"I am Jacoby Smalls!" yelled one of the members, stepping out of the circle before setting back in formation.
A crowd began to form.
"We will not be afraid!"
"I am Jacoby Smalls!" yelled another member in a similar fashion.
"We will not be feared!"
"I am Jacoby Smalls!" another one stepped forward.
"We will not be beaten on!"
"I am Jacoby Smalls!" Joshua shouted to the heavens, making eye contact with his father and holding it.
"We will not be shot dead in the streets!"
-
Captain Canada
- Posts: 2197
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
By Valor and Arms.
Confused but excited for the next update
By Valor and Arms.
i was trying to do more showing and not telling in this one but looks like i failed
hopefully it clears up in the next update